


nobody does it better

by Blownwish



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Drug Use, Hand Job, Incest, M/M, early 90s sort of spy au, mild violence, peripheral jjbek, victurio
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-22
Updated: 2018-03-22
Packaged: 2019-04-06 16:03:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14060487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blownwish/pseuds/Blownwish
Summary: There are killlers looking for Yuri Plisetsky, but there is a spy who loves him more than he will ever know.





	nobody does it better

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Icicle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Icicle/gifts).



> Beta’d by the amazing [Annabeth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/annabeth/pseuds/annabeth)

It’s the middle of the night and Yuri Plisetsky is running for his life through an empty parking lot. Fuck! They know where he works, now! He turns but all he can see is the Homeland Grocery sign glowing over his shoulder. Footsteps are getting closer and he screams for help. Yuri swerves between two beat up Cadillacs parked behind the 24 hour Burger King. He’s got nowhere to hide, he’s just buying time.

“Come on!” Yuri looks up but he’s too close to the Burger King building to tell if anyone’s on the roof. He’s sure as fuck not on the ground. But he’s here. He’s got to be.

He always saves Yuri.

First he hears it, two muffed shots right behind him, then he feels it. “Fuck!” A heavy weight falls right on top of him. Yuri shrieks. This is it, he’s done for. Grandpa always said the world was a crazy shit show and he wasn’t wrong, so far. He’s come halfway around the world just to die in fucking _Oklahoma._

“I’m going to die in front of a fucking Burger King!” Then he feels the weight slide off like a bad dream and there is a shadow, a familiar figure in a trench coat.

Yuri snarls. “Took you long enough!” The shadow shrugs. “Is that all you have to say for yourself? He was this close!”

The shadow puts his finger to Yuri’s lips. “Shhhh…” Then he pats his cheek. He always does this, always placates him with a touch. Then he whisks himself away before Yuri can make out the face.

He’s got to go. The shadow disappeared but the body is still there. Just some grubby looking old, bloody fucker with a Texas driver’s license who’s going by _Al Smith._ Yeah, right. “KGB scum.” He spits on his bloody face before he drags himself to his beat up Festiva.

The driver’s side door won’t open. “Of course!” Yuri crawls in through the passenger's side and turns the engine. At least that’s working; you never know in this fucking country.

++

Otabek always pays attention when Yuri talks about the shadow man, even if he’s in the middle of putting a set together. But JJ? Fuck that guy. He laughs and turns the tv up. MTV spring break coverage must be the defining event of that asshole’s life or something.

“Did you see a car?” Otabek files his vinyl back. JJ snorts and Otabek pops the back of his head. “He had to have some kind of car.”

JJ smirks. “Total black helicopter job. Or maybe aliens beamed him up. Ow!” Yuri smacks the back of his head this time.

“No car. No nothing, same as usual.” Yuri flops down on the busted up sofa just to kick JJ’s leg on general principle. “I wonder if the body is going to make the news?”

JJ turns up Paulie fucking Shore. “Hmm… tits versus bullshit? Wow, tough call.”

“Nobody asked you, rich bitch. Why don’t you go live it up at daddy’s mansion Nichols Hills if you don’t like it?” He’s really sick of JJ’s attitude. He thinks he’s got it all figured out, just because he’s the son and heir of Homeland Foods.

But Otabek gets it. He sits on the edge of the coffee table, hits the plastic bong they bought over at Ziggyz and vibes on the hydro they got from Leo. “Here.” He's still holding his smoke when he passes it to Yuri, who has to shove JJ away. It’s _his hit_ , damn it! “You sure they died?”

He shrugs. Then he coughs. Then he takes another hit while JJ bitches. Yuri flips him the bird. “They always die,” he says after he has a nice long rip. He lets it settle him down into a soft, warm cocoon where nothing can touch him.

“But they keep coming,” says Otabek.

“Quit encouraging him.” JJ has the bong, somehow. Maybe he has magic rich bitch powers. “Spies and shit. Come on! What’s a bunch of killer spies want with _him?_ ”

Yuri takes a six pack of Milwaukee’s Beast out of the fridge and drifts down the hall. Stupid JJ, asking the wrong question. Killer spies, assassins, ghosts, _monsters_ — the world is filled with them. He stands at his window in his cramped little room and watches the moon rise over this fucked up little city. This world is filled with danger. People like JJ are too weak, too pampered to know. He drinks down an entire can. The real question is not why someone wants him dead, but why someone wants him to live.

He’s out there, somewhere.

++

Being a bagboy sucks. Old ladies make him rebag everything, all the time. Stupid front end manager bitches make him run all over the store for price checks. Assistant managers always think he needs more to do, so they’re constantly making him stock. People talk to him slow, like having an accent means he can’t speak English right. Fuck, he speaks proper English. The old bitch who tipped him a whole fucking quarter literally said _gracias_ to him.

“Do I look Mexican?” He knows he’s not supposed to bitch on the floor. But it’s just JJ. He’s not reporting shit. “Seriously?”

JJ keeps shuffling through copies like one of them is going to be different. “I don’t know? Maybe? Hey, do I really have 38 hours? I don’t think this is adding up?” JJ can barely do arithmetic and he’s an assistant manager, while Yuri can’t even get on a register. Who says feudalism is dead?

“Your dad had Dale change the schedule again.” He doesn’t have to look at the sheet to know. “Where the fuck did she get Mexican from? I mean, look at my name tag. Is this Spanish?”

“I agree. How could anyone mistake you for anything but Russian?” That’s not English. Yuri blinks and he nearly clutches his heart because it almost feels like it’s going to pop out of his chest. That’s _Russian_.

But it’s not dark outside. And there are other people around. And he’s not ready to die. He doesn’t want to die. Please? Please don’t let him die?

He should run. Run right now. Whoever this is, he’s too close. There are only a million different things he could do to Yuri, like jam that pen in his throat, brain him on the linoleum floor, snap his neck.

So he does. Yuri turns and Yuri runs and Yuri pushes past the carts and through the doors as JJ hollers, _What the hell?!_ Yeah, JJ’s going to have to kiss Yuri’s ass and apologize because this is proof. People really do want Yuri dead.

He screams for help, like he always does. He knows he’ll be safe, he just has to buy time, like he always has. Except he doesn’t expect that mint green Lincoln Continental.

Or to be tackled. Or the pain in his head. Oh, fuck! That was concrete!

Yuri blinks but this guy’s head is blocking out sunlight, and it’s hard to make out his face. But Yuri knows who he is. He closes his eyes and smiles. It’s the shadow. “You’re slipping.”

“Shhh.” A familiar press is against Yuri’s lip, and then he’s lifted up. He always knew these arms would be strong. He always knew.

++

He was eleven when his father officially ‘disappeared.’ He was twelve when they scrambled to the American embassy in Oslo with nothing but the clothes on their backs and stupidly thought they were safe. Twelve when his mother’s death showed them they weren’t. Then thirteen when the shadow appeared for the first time, shooting the first man who tried to kill him. And eighteen when his grandpa was diagnosed with Non-Hodgkin Lymphoma.

“He’s still around,” Yuri told him at his hospital. “He’s watching you too, isn’t he?”

The old bastard, he wouldn’t stop smoking, even with a collapsed lung. No, he just stood in his robe at the open window and puffed away at his Benson and Hedges. If the Gulag didn’t scare Grandpa, that fat redneck nurse had no chance. He nodded and puffed, puffed and nodded. Then he smiled and shrugged. That was all he would ever do when Yuri mentioned the shadow. “Don’t you know who he is?” Yuri had to know.

Grandpa just shrugged some more.

“Is it someone Papa knew?” Why else would they care? “You never say who he is. Why don’t you say?”

Grandpa took a long, slow drag and filled the hospital room with smoke that drifted like so many ghosts. “Did you see the news? The Kremlin has finally fallen.” He spat on the floor. “They will pay for what they have done.”

Soon he wasn’t able to ask him anymore. Grandpa became an urn, a framed picture, a couple of recipes, and a set of fading memories. Those things couldn’t tell him anything.

++

Yuri is looking for a tall man with light hair and expensive clothes. “Like, Versace or something. Not flashy but expensive. He drives a Beemer. A black one. Rich as fuck.” JJ takes a long pull off his bong and smacks his hand against the sofa a half dozen times.

Otabek loads another fresh bowl and passes it to Yuri, because he’s cool like that. Otabek was the one who drove him home from the ER. He didn’t roll his eyes when Yuri begged the nurses for a name, a description, for any information, really. And he’s not doing it now. Yuri takes his hit like a champ.

JJ’s laughing, though. “Dude, he was just a Good Samaritan, okay? Weird coincidence that he’s Russian and everything. Just rip some more of that JJ Style and you’ll be stoned immaculate.”

Who says that? But he does. And he slurps up the chicken Ramen JJ says he’s mastered. There’s four packets for three stoned guys. “I need meat.” Otabek throws his fork and the rinsed out Big Gulp cup he used as a bowl in the giant trash bag propped next to their sofa. "It’s either meat or weed but I need _both_.”

“Oh, he likes meat!” JJ smirks at Otabek. “I got some meat for you, baby.”

Yuri tosses his own empty Big Gulp cup. “Gay!”

But JJ blocks it. “Not as gay as you were last night.” Oh, of course — this stupid game again. Yuri swears JJ is a closet queen, especially for Otabek. Why else is he living in this shithole when he could be living it up in a mansion?

“No as gay as your dad when he’s sucking my dick.” He knocks JJ’s cup to the floor.

Otabek bites his lip to keep from laughing. He knows it’s funny, but he’s always trying to pretend he’s Mr. Serious DJ or something. “You guys need to cut it out.”

JJ sneaks a surprise arm lock and pouts. “You want meat? C’mere and lemme help you with that!”

They’re not gonna help him figure this shit out. “Congrats, my man.” He pats Otabek’s head and leaves the living room, lies down on his stinking unmade bed and groans. Good thing he lives with his best friend, too. “Hello, Potya.” She jumps up and purrs on his fur-covered blanket.

He closes his eyes. Good thing he doesn’t have to work today. Doctor’s note. Sleep comes quickly, and he dreams of a shadow watching over him like a guardian angel.

++

It was his first day at Central Middle School the first time it happened. He was supposed to be waiting at the corner of 50th Street and Meridian Avenue at six forty five in the morning, waiting for bus number ninety-two. That’s what the pinched-face lady with the bun said at the registration office. But he wasn’t, no. He was sitting on a bench at Dolese park, feeding the ducks the Wonder Bread from his Oscar Meyer bologna sandwich.

He’d been coming here since they moved back in June. Something about the park felt fated, maybe because Mama died in a park, maybe because he wanted to prove he couldn’t die. Or maybe it was something in the periphery of his vision waiting to come out. Yuri couldn’t have said. All he knew was he walked out living and breathing every time and it felt like victory.

Yuri walked around the pond between trees that blocked out the early morning light to make his way toward Meridian Avenue. He should’ve brought a flashlight. Grandpa would’ve said he shouldn’t have gone into the park at all.

_Watch out, Yurochka. The world is a cesspool. America is just a pretty cesspool._

He kept clutching the Swiss Army knife he kept in his jeans. Mama used to tell him stories about the forests, about Peter and the Wolf. It seemed to Yuri that monsters liked hiding in the city forests. They killed Mama in Central Park. But he was going to be damned before those bastards scared him.

And then it happened.

“Hey, little boy.” There was a voice in Russian — right behind him — oh god! He thought his heart was going to pop out of his chest. He began to run, but the fucking saplings were pulling and scratching at his legs and it was so hard and he was gasping and reaching out and he couldn’t _breathe_ —

_Mama! Is this what happened to you?_

“Come here, you little shit!”

Then there was a soft sound, like the angel of death taking away someone’s last breath. He looked over his shoulder. There was no one, no monster or wolf or anything but trees. There was a groan and a thud.

And then he saw it.

There was a shadow moving in the trees. It was as tall as a man and he was fast, so fast, whipping around the bank near the pond. He saw a silhouette blocking out the rising sun. And it waved. Yuri waved back. “Thank you,” he whispered.

++

JJ’s pestering him, and it only means one thing. “Hey!” JJ nods to the left. “Yuri! Someone’s asking for you in meats.” It means work.

“Even you know we have butchers. Get one.” Yuri’s just going on break and JJ knows, he can see him packing his Reds. But JJ’s been smoking something besides weed because he’s actually dragging Yuri by the collar down aisle six. “Do you want to die?”

“But this is someone you definitely wanna see!” JJ shoves him forward and he’s gone before Yuri can mash his face into the Rice-a-Roni.

Yuri’s flipping him the bird but JJ’s gone and all that’s left is old Mrs. Walsh flipping one back at him.

“Hello.” There’s that voice again. It’s _him_ , and he’s _here_. Yuri takes a deep breath and turns around. “I was hoping to see you.” And there he is, the most beautiful man Yuri’s ever seen in his entire life.

“Hey.” He can’t look away but he can’t keep looking at him. It’s like staring at the sun. Everything about him is too much. His hair is too light, he’s too tall, his body — Yuri needs to look away before he gets a hard on — the way he smiles when Yuri’s face heats up? Oh, fuck. “You’re the guy.” The guy who’s been saving his life for years. The shadow Yuri’s been jerking off to ever since that first time. This is him. Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck.

He tilts his head. “I am the guy.” He laughs and throws his hair back. “Wouldn’t you like to know my name?”

Oh god yes! Yuri nods. “Sure.”

“Viktor. Viktor Nikiforov.” He steps forward and offers his hand. “I’m your cousin.”

++

Yuri knew he was gay ever since his mother showed him a picture of Baryshnikov in tights. He kept this knowledge tucked deep inside. He would catch himself looking at a boy at school, thinking about them, wanting them, always aware that this thing inside would never let him have a regular, all-American life. And that was fine, just fine. He didn’t want that. By the time puberty hit, all he was reeling with a need that clawed underneath his skin, night and day.

And then the shadow appeared.

He had saved Yuri’s life in the park, then behind the apartment complex two months later when a redheaded bastard leaped out from behind the dumpster with a knife. There was a muffled gunshot and the shadow had leapt out of the dark and threw Yuri over his shoulder, bounding down the alleyway until they reached Yuri’s bedroom window on the ground floor.

Somehow he was able to open it, placing Yuri inside, carefully, before letting himself in. He didn’t turn on the light. He just checked the closet before he turned to leave. But he couldn’t leave, no. He made Yuri feel safe. He was so strong, so powerful, so amazing.

“Wait!” Yuri got up and reached for his hand. The shadow was too quick though. He was already out the window, but his head was still inside. “Who are you?”

He put his finger to his lips and shook his head. And then he was gone.

There were times Yuri would wake up, and he would look out that window, wishing that shadow were looking back at him. He would touch himself, and he would imagine a dark figure touching him instead.

++

“Cousin.” Yuri says the word like he says _KGB_ or _cancer_. “We’re cousins.” If he looks this guy in the eye, he’s going to see through him and he’s going to know.

Yuri has been in love with him for years.

“I will take you out for some tea.” There is a hand on Yuri’s shoulder and it feels so warm, so reassuring and Yuri almost leans into it. Almost.

But the shadow can’t help him with this. “I have to work.”

“You can go!” JJ hollers from behind a pallet stacked with Charmin.

Viktor pats his shoulder now. “Well then. You know any nice places?”

++

The Yippy Yi Yo Cafe is nice enough. Yuri’s never been because he can’t afford a fancy moccachino fancy ass drink. But Viktor really does have a BMW, and Yuri is pretty sure that suit isn’t from JC Penny’s. So here they are.

“It looks like a submarine.” Viktor points at the vent mounted in the wall. “Do you serve black tea?” He smiles at the counter girl when she says they do. “Ah, perhaps you have jelly?” Yuri listens to his English. He could live in the lilt; he hasn’t heard English in a Russian accent since Grandpa died.

And he hasn’t had anyone stir jelly into his hot tea since Grandpa died, either. But that’s exactly what Viktor does when they take their seats with those huge, steaming cups.

“Is this your favorite place?” Viktor tilts his head and it’s hard not to stare into those eyes. They’re so much like his own and it’s going to kill him.

So he doesn’t. “No. It’s expensive. The New Orleans Cafe charges two dollars for unlimited coffee.” And unlimited roaches. That place is a shitshow but everyone he knows goes there. JJ drew his greatest masterpiece on the men’s room wall, a salute to the owner’s Elvis burger, featuring the King on the pot with two of said burgers in each hand. Yuri knows Viktor has seen it. He has to have seen it, if he’s the shadow. “But you know all about that place.” He takes a slow sip and savours the hot sweetness.

“Why would I know that?” Viktor hasn’t touched his tea.

Seriously? “Come on. You know. You’re the — “ he almost says it “— you save me all the time.”

Viktor narrows his eyes. “Once. I saved you once. Maybe you’re mistaking me for someone else?”

“Why are you saying that?” Yuri knows he’s right. He looks up and it’s a big mistake. “Are you deep cover or something?” Viktor is tilting his head and studying Yuri’s face as if he wants to memorize it.

“Deep cover?” He laughs. “Yuri, do you think I am a spy? You have such an imagination!” But Yuri sees the way he pulls back a little. The way he glances at the door when an old man with a sketch pad strolls in. He saw the expensive car with the CD player. The Rolex. Agents are well paid, that’s what Grandpa always said. Well paid and always on alert.

Yuri sighs. “Plausible deniability. I get it.”

“I’m a businessman who happened to find a few opportunities on this side. Nothing special. Certainly nothing exotic.”

He watches Viktor smile as if he’s as pure as the driven snow. He smirks. “Fine, _cousin_.”

“I really am.” He dips his finger in Yuri’s tea and sucks it off. This does _things_ to Yuri. Things a cousin shouldn’t be feeling. Couldn’t be feeling. “My mother and your father were siblings.” Viktor’s lower lip was full like a plush pillow Yuri wanted to press against when Viktor licked that, too. “You can understand how I felt when I found out my only living relative was in Oklahoma City. I had to see you.”

He’s been seeing Yuri for years. But that’s fine. Yuri can play along. “So, here I am.”

“Yuri, I want you to live with me.” His eyes — Yuri thinks he’s going to drown in those eyes. He nearly jumps when Viktor’s hand closes over his. “We can live wherever you want. Go to college, get a better job, or nothing at all. Just come with me?”

“That’s crazy.”

“No, Yurochka. It’s what family does. Let me take care of you.”

++

“When are you moving out?” Otabek doesn’t seem shocked. It’s like Yuri told him he’s going to work at the southside store or something.

But JJ is thrilled. He’s doing that stupid running man dance. “Fuck you, Vanilla Ice.” Yuri pops him upside the head but he still isn’t stopping. He’s actually hooting at Yuri like some stupid jock asshole from high school.

“Cut it out, Jean.” Otabek grabs his arm and almost smiles.

But JJ goes full wattage. “Make me.”

Yuri snorts. “Gay!” He runs out of the apartment and down the stairs before JJ can get him in a stupid headlock. Fucker is too stoned, too slow, and too dumb to ever give Yuri a second round of nuggies.

He jogs over to the Circle K, buzzed on beer and a little green, but mostly by the kiss on the cheek from Viktor, after he walked him to his apartment door. _I will see you soon, yes?_ He had combed Yuri’s hair away so he could find the answer in his eyes. All Yuri could do was nod. Oh, god! He can hardly believe it. This is real and not some crazy dream!

He grabs a Snickers and a suicide Big Gulp with extra Strawberry Fanta. The old man at the register eyeballs him. “You sure are antsy, son.” Yuri sees his _just say no_ button and figures the old fart thinks he’s on drugs. And he is, so he just gives him the money and laughs.

What the fuck does he care? He’s about to live with _him_.

Yuri doesn’t notice the rusted out Pinto pulling into the parking lot. He’s smiling at the full moon, wondering how lucky he finally — finally! — is, when someone grabs him from behind.

The drink splashes as the cup hits the curb. Yuri screams but he’s being muffled by a handkerchief and he wonders where the fuck Viktor is when everything goes black.

++

“Yurochka?” Someone is patting his cheek. “Hey, Yurochka? Wake up, sleepyhead.”

Where is he? A torture dungeon? Are those KGB bastards going to work him over before they finally do it? Oh, fuck! He should’ve known this would happen! He let his guard down for one moment, just one, and they got him.

He sits up and hits something hard, so hard. “Fuck!” His head! They hit him in the head!

But when he opens his eyes he finds himself in the middle of a white canopy bed, lying next to Viktor, who’s rubbing his own head. “What the hell just happened?”

And suddenly he realizes the answer: Viktor saved him, again. Of course he did. Viktor always saves him.

“Yura! Your head is so hard!” Even if he has the world’s whiniest voice.

“What is this place?” He tries to get out of bed but two strong arms pull him back and slam him right up against Viktor. Suddenly Yuri’s head isn’t bothering him at all.

Viktor huffs warm breath as he presses his lips into Yuri’s hair. “Home, for now.” Potya jumps up on the sofa just to show Yuri it’s true.

“Home.” He lets Viktor pull him down and hold him. Yuri doesn’t know what to do so he just stares as Potya kneads the white quilt and settles into a corner. Viktor’s body is so warm, so big, so strong. “You saved me.”

“I found you walking around late at night drunk and out of your mind. So yes, I suppose so.” No, that’s wrong and he knows it. Yuri was knocked out. He bets it was chloroform. Viktor kisses the crown of his head. “Don’t do that again.” Yuri knows he won’t say the truth. It’s more of that deep cover stuff, probably. Plausible deniability.

“Not a problem.” Yuri squirms because he’s starting to get hard and his underwear - he’s in his underwear? Viktor’s pants press against his bare legs. “Uh, Viktor?”

“Go back to sleep.”

But he can’t. Not when he’s hard and Viktor has his arms wrapped around him in bed. “We’re not really cousins? Not really, right?”

Viktor sighs. Then he gets up. “Family photo time.” He comes back with a leather album, open to a photo of Yuri’s parents’ wedding. Viktor points to the blonde woman standing next to Papa. “That’s my mother, your Aunt Ana. And this is me, the one wearing short pants.” He’s pointing to a blonde haired boy in the cheesiest bow tie suit in world history.

So it’s true. Yuri suddenly feels disgusting. He wants to crawl under the bed and hide forever. He’s such a sick pervert. “You look terrible!” His voice cracks and he looks away.

“Hey, it’s okay. I didn’t dress myself but now I do. No need to cry over short pants, right?” Viktor’s hugging him again. “You’ve been through so much, Yurochka. But you are with family now. And that means one thing.”

Yuri blinks as Viktor looks into his eyes. “What’s that?”

“Unconditional love. I would do anything for you.”

He can’t help it. He's a sick, perverted queer and he can’t stop wanting Viktor, even if they are related. He knows it, just like he knew he liked boys when he was a kid. Viktor is his shadow, his guardian angel, his savior. “Anything?” He asks before he realizes it.

Viktor takes a deep breath and holds him tighter. “Shhhh….” He presses his finger against Yuri’s lips, just like the shadow.

++

It was easy to quit Homeland Groceries. All he had to do was not show up. JJ probably knows what’s going on and probably doesn’t care because he’s living his no-homo fantasy with Otabek and Yuri is living his.

Sort of.

“Yurochka, you will love Manhattan. We can stay at my apartment and I will show you Times Square.” He feeds Yuri more cheesecake from a silver fork as they sit at an oak dining room table. Sunshine and flowers are everywhere. Yuri never knew a mansion could be so light and airy. “Have another bite!”

It’s not that he doesn’t love being pampered. Viktor spoils him like Yuri spoils Potya, hand feeding him; snuggling with him, petting his hair as if he is a sleek, soft kitten. It’s wonderful, so wonderful. Yuri moans as he takes another bite. Then he moans again when Viktor wipes Yuri’s lip with his thumb. It’s wonderful, and it’s torture.

Yuri can’t count how many times he’s jerked off already, aching for more than pets and hugs and chaste little kisses. It’s driving him crazy, and yet?

Viktor smiles. “I’ve never been so happy!” Viktor doesn’t seem to be affected at all. It’s as if this is normal.

But then again, what is normal? Yuri has no fucking clue.

He calls Otabek after two, when he knows he’s awake but not awake enough to leave the apartment for a Circle K coffee. “Can I tell you something? Don’t tell anyone.” Yuri works his finger through the twisted telephone cord.

“You know I won’t.” Otabek’s cool. He didn’t judge Yuri when he told him about the shadow. He can handle this.

He closes his eyes and says what he’s never said out loud. “I’m gay.”

“Yeah.” Otabek says this like Yuri just told him he’s into house music or something.

Yuri looks around, but Viktor is still in his study. “And I like Viktor,” he whispers. Oh, fuck. It sounds even worse out loud. Yuri presses his forehead against the white arm of Viktor’s plush sofa.

Otabek just clears his throat. “First cousins, no big deal. Leo said his uncle married his aunt back in Mexico.”

“You think it’s weird!”

“I think the whole world is weird. So?” He can just picture Otabek loading a bowl in that dumpster fire of a living room while JJ is taking a monster crap in the bathroom. It’s not that he misses living there, but he kind of wants a hit, too. “Why don’t you come down to my set since you’re living the luxury life down in Nichols Hills with no job? Get your mind off things?”

“Sure.” Would Viktor mind? “Where and when?”

“Off the highway on Eastern. That field between the trees and the Waffle House.”

An outdoor rave? _Oh, fuck yeah!_ Yuri sits up and imagines all the E and weed. “Sounds cool.”

“Just make sure it’s okay with your sugar daddy cousin guy.”

Yuri snorts. “Fuck you, Altin.”

++

Yuri is lying on the grass, watching stars streak across the sky as music pulses in strobe light blues the color of Viktor’s eyes. And he feels like shit. Not because Leo gave him shit E. No, Leo is the best. And it isn’t because the rave is a bust. Hell no. Everyone is there: Chris and Japanese Yuuri, Cincinnati Mike and Chance, Amanda, and a bunch of losers on the Homeland second shift crew showed — even JJ. It's a _rave_ to end all raves.

But he didn’t tell Viktor where he went. No, he just took a shower, took his keys off his nightstand and walked down the long winding driveway and into his beat up Festiva without so much as a word.

“I’m in trouble, man!”

JJ falls down next to him in the grass and passes him a joint. “Your SugarCousinDaddyShadowMan?” He laughs. “Shit, I saw him in a UFO with Bigfoot over there!”

Yuri would normally want to punch his arm but he’s somehow hugging it instead. “Don’t start, okay? Didn’t tell him I was going out.”

“You’re testing him like I test my dad.” JJ turns and he’s like this little boy with little flowers and stars popping around his face. “I love my dad. That’s why I test him. You love the ShadowCousinManThing guy. Like I love my dad. But like in a gay way.” He smiles. “I think that’s cool.”

“JJ, you are tripping.” But so is Yuri, just a little. He only took half a hit. “But thanks, man.”

“You are my bro, bro!” JJ laughs and points. “I love you, man!” For a second Yuri thinks he’s talking to him. But JJ’s jumping up and suddenly Otabek is there. JJ’s spinning him around and Otabek is _smiling_ and _laughing_. And maybe he’s seeing things, because he’s pressing his mouth against JJ’s.

This can’t be real.

Yuri is walking toward the trees, following them because he wonders if he really saw what he thinks he saw. And he’s not really sure what he’s looking at now because the trees are filtering out all the flashing lights. Otabek’s laughing and maybe, if he squints, he can see them leaning up against that big tree.

“I really, really love you, Beks. Love you so much!”

Yuri thinks he can see into their future. He can see them living in Nichols Hills, in that house with all the columns, like some married couple. It’s crazy, but isn’t everything?

He keeps walking past them, imagining more. Imagining him and Viktor living together in New York, Yuri under his protection and in his bed. It is such a beautiful dream that it makes Yuri’s heart feel like it is going to burst out of his chest. He really can have love. He really can!

Then he sees him. He knew he would see him: tall and dark and waiting somewhere between the edge of the universe and the end of the grove. Yuri laughs and waves and he’s flying through the forest like some fairy in a Russian bedtime story.

He can’t see his face but it’s him. He knows it’s him. “I love you, Viktor Nikiforov.” Then he pulls Viktor’s head down. “Hope you’re not mad at me?”

And he kisses Viktor.

He’s never kissed anyone before but he is sure they’re not supposed to just stand there. They’re not supposed to squeeze his shoulders or try to push him away. Yuri groans. That’s not right, Viktor has to love him back. He just has to. He angles his mouth and he rubs his crotch against him. “Please?”

Viktor turns away and there is a soft sound, a shush Yuri knows like his own name, and a groan. He looks over Viktor’s shadowy shoulder and there is a man dead on the road. Yuri blinks. “You — you saved me again.” Then he closes his eyes. “I was so stupid to come out here! I just wanted to see my friends and — “

There is a hand under his chin, and there is a mouth over his. Yuri gasps and he is crushed against that hard body; he moans when he tastes a tongue against his. And Viktor moans, too. It’s like kissing the night sky.

Then it’s over. Yuri is pushed away. He trembles as one finger slides over his lips. “I won’t do it again.”

Viktor turns away.

“Wait!” Yuri touches his hand. “Why are they coming after me?”

Viktor squeezes it and whispers: “To get to me.” And then he’s gone. Yuri wonders if there’s mist or if it’s the E. He shakes his head and walks out of the forest.

And the rave is over. Cops are there with flashing blue and red lights, yelling _go home_ and get lost and Yuri freaks because he’s high and there is no way he can hide it.

“Yuri.” He turns and Viktor is handing out hundred dollar bills to a couple of pigs like candy to trick or treaters. “Come here, Yurochka.”

That’s not a smile. But Yuri sees the shadow in his profile. He knows Viktor loves him. He reaches for that darkness but Viktor snatches his hand and pushes him into the BMW. Yuri watches him bribe the rest of the cops. They look like pigs lining up at a trough and Viktor looks like an angel with the moonlight in his hair. A dark angel, Yuri thinks. “My angel,” he says out loud.

He says it again when Viktor gets in the car. Viktor sighs and dials his car phone. Yuri wonders how it works without wires, but Viktor can do anything, really. Like call a bunch of taxis for all his loser friends as a pack of them run behind the cop cars as they leave, hooting and laughing and flipping the pigs off. JJ’s in front of them all and he’s holding Otabek’s hand.

Viktor hangs up. “Well, that’s done.” There’s a serious line between his eyes and Yuri wants to smooth it away. “Sit back.” He leans toward him and Yuri leans in, too, grabbing the lapels of his silk suit and pressing his mouth against his skin. He moans, Viktor moans and then — “Stop!” Yuri is pushed back and Viktor is pulling a seat belt on him.

“You kissed me back there. After you shot that guy.” He doesn’t understand why he doesn’t want more of the same.

Viktor shakes his head. “I shot someone? Yurochka, I have never… would not, ever…” Then he pinches his nose. “No more drugs.”

No! Viktor knows this is true. “It’s only a little E. And I know what happened.” He cries because it’s so terrible and beautiful all at once and Viktor wants to pretend. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” They pass the kids as they wave Viktor off like a hero, and the road turns into a river as they merge onto the highway. Yuri watches the stripes on the highway flicker. “You are family.”

“Family.” He wants to tell him it’s okay. “Family loves unconditionally.”

“Unconditionally. Forever.”

Yuri watches the light and shadow play over Viktor’s face as they go home. “Thank you.”

++

He can’t sleep in this bed. The darkness looks like a forest and he is jerking himself off while he thinks about Viktor’s kiss. It was so soft and so hard and wet and desperate — and he can’t live without another one. “Oh fuck, Viktor!”

Yuri moans. The world is full of wolves and monsters and people who want them dead. It’s a terrible, terrible world no matter where he goes but it’s _beautiful_ because of Viktor. And this darkness doesn’t scare him. Yuri loves it because it’s _him_.

And he sees him. Yes, it’s not the E and it’s not a dream. Yuri sits up as the shadow comes to him. “You always come for me.” And the shadow is so close. Close enough to touch and taste and feel. “I knew you’d come.”

He puts his finger on Yuri’s lips. The mattress dips and Yuri can feel his breath against his neck, his hands on his body — all over his body — and they shake, as if Viktor is afraid. “Vitya,” Yuri reaches for his face and brings it close to his, “I’ve waited so long for you.”

Viktor groans and he presses his lips against Yuri's. Presses his hand against him, there, right there, and - oh! Yuri thrusts and Viktor slides his tongue over his. Takes Yuri’s hand and guides it between his legs.

He’s naked and he’s hard.

And somehow Yuri is, too.

“Show me everything,” Yuri whispers in the dark. And he does. He holds Yuri tight as he wraps his hand around their cocks, and he does. He groans when Yuri sobs, just a little, and he shows him more, he shows Yuri the world and it is beautiful, so beautiful, and it is only Viktor.

++

It’s daylight and Yuri can feel every particle of sunshine hit his brain like a trillion, trillion freight trucks. He tries to reach for a pillow, he wants to cover his poor head, but he is being held down.

Viktor’s got his arms wrapped around him. And Viktor is very, very naked. So is Yuri. It’s like fog lifting when Yuri remembers —

_We had sex!_

“Viktor!” He shakes his arm and tries to ignore the jackhammer working under his skull. “Hey!” He kisses him once, watches his angel face scrunch up for a moment.

Then Viktor breathes _Yurochka_ , like a prayer. His eyes are still closed.

“Vitya.” He called him that last night, didn’t he? Yes, Yuri remembers he did. “Vitya, wake up.” He kisses him again, slowly. One eye opens and Yuri kisses him a third time, pressing his ass against his cock.

This time he sits up. “Oh god!” He shakes his head. “Oh god, Yura! Oh god!” The look on his face, the horrified look! “I can explain! I didn’t mean to —“

Yuri is the one who puts his finger on Viktor’s lips this time. “Do me a favor? My head is killing me. So no lies. Not right now.” He waits for Viktor to nod before he takes his hand away.

He gets up, somehow. There’s dry come all over his belly, way more than Yuri can make alone, and he picks up the suit off the floor. “You wanna get dressed?” That’s when he sees an empty holster. He turns around and it hurts to smile. But he does it anyway. “Hope you put your gun up.”

Viktor closes his eyes and leans back against the headboard. “Yes. Yes, I did.”

“And you, you really did kill all those people for me.” Fuck the headache. Yuri will take a million more of them. “And you _love me_.”

That’s when Viktor opens his eyes and shows Yuri a shade of blue so hot he feels it like fire. “Yes, I love you. My cousin, my blood, my _Yurochka_.” And he snarls. “I watched you grow up, not knowing I would fall in love with you. Not even realizing it was love until it was too late. And I cannot stop!”

Yuri drops the clothes. He climbs on the bed, and he straddles Viktor because he can’t stop, either. “Are you a spy?”

“Spy? Spy without a country!” Viktor grabs his wrists and flips him over, pinning him against the mattress. “You want to hear the ugly truth? How my mother was betrayed and killed after years of service? How your father sacrificed his life so that his family could defect? How they hated us for loyalty to family before anything? How they hunt us like rabid dogs even after their empire has collapsed?” He huffs. “Is that what you wanted to hear?”

Yuri swallows hard. “I knew it.”

Viktor cups his jaw and rubs his thumb over Yuri’s lips. “My Yurochka. This is wrong, you know that? Our family, they would be so ashamed.”

No, no it’s not. It’s makes this crazy, terrible world beautiful. He touches Viktor’s face. “I won’t tell if you don’t.”

Viktor kisses his palm. Then he bends his head and kisses Yuri for the first time in the daylight. “I love you, Yurochka.”


End file.
